


Aftermath

by Crypto_Is_Octanes_New_Gamer_Chair



Series: Pimp Hustler AU [2]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinda, Past Rape/Non-con, Plot, Rape Aftermath, Some Plot, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypto_Is_Octanes_New_Gamer_Chair/pseuds/Crypto_Is_Octanes_New_Gamer_Chair
Summary: Elliott meets Loba Andrade.And things don't look like they're going to get any better in the near future.
Series: Pimp Hustler AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143704
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> So my brain said plot.
> 
> This chapter doesn't have any smut, but the next very much will. :3

Elliott wasn’t sure how long he was forced to endure Tae Joon, only that by the end of it he’d been nothing more than a writhing mess, squirming from overstimulation. Luckily someone had come to the door to inform the crime lord that there was something he needed to see, the korean quick to get dressed and vacate the room, though not before cutting Elliott loose.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there - curled up in a tight ball sobbing his eyes out - mustering up the strength to climb off of the couch and limp across the room to get his clothes. Putting them on had been a little difficult, the engineer quite sore. 

Once covered up again, Elliott crawled into a back corner of the couch to once again curl up. It felt weird lying there clothed with cum undoubtedly staining his underwear, but the poor guy didn’t know what else to do.

Biting his lower lip, Elliott attempted to collect himself, trembling a little as his mind raced. What was going to happen next? Would he ever see his mother again?

Quiet voices reached Elliott’s ears, pulling the brunette from his thoughts as he focused on listening to what was being said.

“You know I don’t like doing the street workers,” a woman’s voice filtered down the hall, “why pretty them up if it’s just going to get ruined?”

“Sorry,  _ chica, _ I don’t make the rules!” A man responded, sounding much too cheery. It also sounded familiar, Elliott sitting up a little when the door opened to let Octavio Silva into the room, the Spaniard followed by a tall, gorgeous woman.

Elliott couldn’t help but stare, taking in her hourglass shape; long, silver hair cascading over her shoulders; flawless tan skin reflecting the neon lighting; and large, amber eyes. She was drop dead beautiful, everything about her seeming perfect, the way she walked portraying a sense of grace and finesse.

“Here he is,” Octavio announced, needlessly motioning towards the shaking man.

Those odd coloured eyes heavily framed with thick lashes locked onto Elliott, the young man finding it impossible to look away from her.

“Hm, he is rather pretty,” the woman stated, voice holding a very slight accent as she moved closer, stopping when Elliott instinctively pressed himself as far back into the couch as he possibly could. “Has he been working already?”

Octavio laughed, the sound grating on Elliott’s nerves. “Boss took him for a test drive, and let me tell you, the  _ puta _ looks good without clothes on.”

“ _ Hmph _ ,” the silver haired individual snorted, expression holding a sort of distaste. “I’ve told him that it makes it harder to transition them.”

“Can you blame him, Loba? Look at that body!”

Elliott felt terribly self conscious, the young man avoiding eye contact as he wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Everything about this was humiliating: the way these two spoke about him as if he were an animal, conversing about whether or not he would be worth buying. Not to mention the fact that Octavio had seen him naked with a dick up his ass, moaning like an absolute whore.

“What am I saying?” The woman Elliott now knew to be Loba, rolled her eyes. “You don’t know the first thing about patience.”

Octavio grinned widely, nudging the taller newcomer with an elbow. “You know me too well,  _ chica _ .”

Loba shook her head, snapping her fingers to get Elliott’s attention. “Come here, beautiful. I need to get a better look at you.”

Tensing up, Elliott glanced from the woman to Octavio, then back again. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do anything these people asked him to. He remained where he was, glancing up at Loba just long enough to make eye contact before he was looking away again.

“Why don’t you find something else to do?” Loba questioned, looking down at the shorter Octavio, one hand on her hip. “I have a feeling there’s something you should be doing right now.”

“What? Come  _ on _ why can’t I ever watch?” The green haired man questioned, pouting like a child that didn’t get his way.

Loba crossed her arms over her chest. “Because you make it harder. Now get out.”

Elliott watched as Octavio looked over at him, scowling a little though he obeyed, leaving the room. The door slammed behind him, the suddenness of it causing the poor guy to jump.

Silence filled the room now that Loba and Elliott were the only two present, the latter looking up at the woman, uncertainty settling in his heart.

Loba was watching him, the woman sighing softly before pulling up a chair. “If you would please come closer, I need to have a better look at you.”

The woman seemed nice, voice almost soothing as she patted the couch in front of her. She made no move to try and grab him, nor was she raising her voice.

Elliott hesitated briefly before scooting himself over to the indicated spot, the engineer unable to keep from trembling. He half expected Loba to hit him, to make fun of him for his weakness. Never in a million years did he expect gentle hands to cup his face, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over. 

_ When did I start crying?  _ Elliott wondered inwardly, sniffling a little.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Loba mused, pulling the young man into a hug, fingers running through his hair. It felt nice, soothing. 

Elliott allowed himself to cry, leaning into the comforting arms of this… stranger. A stranger that smelled of flowers and something else the brunette couldn’t place.

All too soon, Loba was pulling away, Elliott reluctantly allowing himself to sit up as those pretty amber eyes looked him over.

“Would I be correct in assuming you are new to this line of work?” Loba asked, voice quiet.

Elliott couldn’t help the sharp laugh that escaped him. “He r-raped me.”

The silver haired woman sighed as she brushed a loose strand behind her ear. “Was it your first time?” She asked, Elliott staring at her. “I know it might feel intrusive, but I can only help so much, and even then only if I know the whole story.”

Elliott was quiet for a long time, trying to put his thoughts in order but everything just felt so scrambled. “He said my dad o-owed him a lot of credits,” the bearded man finally answered, brow furrowing a little. “I thought my old man died in the war. Th-they just showed up at the h-house… I heard Mom sh-shouting and I was working on the tech but I ran t-to see if she was ok and there were b-big guys there. I tried to help her but th-they brought me here.”

Loba was nodding, a little frown on her face. “You are totally new to all this. I know that it is frightening, but I can assure you-”

“He r- _ raped _ me!” Elliott interrupted, staring at the woman. 

Loba sighed, expression one of pity. “It could’ve been worse,” she answered after a long stretch of silence, a finger pressing to Elliott’s lips to keep him from interrupting. “Believe me, it could’ve been much, much worse.”

Staring at the woman, Elliott couldn’t think of any way to respond. Just because he hadn’t been physically hurt meant that it wasn’t “that bad”??

“Listen… What is your name?”

“E-Elliott.”

“Elliott,” a small smile curled the corners of Loba’s lips upward, “I am in charge of the sex workers. I help them transition as best I can, do what I’m able to make the entire process as simple as possible.” Loba paused, seemingly to give Elliott a chance to speak, the engineer remaining quiet as she continued. “From what I know, you are to spend your weekdays working out in the streets and the weekends in the clubs.”

“What’s the difference?” Elliott questioned bitterly, “it’s the same thing.”

Loba shook her head, brow furrowing ever so slightly. “The streets are more dangerous than the clubs. There are all kinds of person out there, and unfortunately, most of them are… the unsavoury type.”

There was a soft scratching noise as Loba pushed her chair back and stood, heels clicking against the polished floor as she made her way over to the bar. “Depending on the club, some of them are private, which means only members may visit,” glasses clinked together as the silver haired woman set them on the counter. “Only certain people can be members. Mostly the wealthy, but the workers stationed in the club get the benefit of a safer atmosphere and better mannered clients.”

Elliott remained quiet in the pause that followed Loba’s words, the holographics specialist watching as the woman poured out two drinks.

“You’ll be in both worlds,” Loba continued as she made her way back over to where the younger was sitting, shoving a glass into his hands. “I try to stay away from the street workers, but I can tell you that it will be hard.”

Staring mutely at the glass in his hands, Elliott struggled to wrap his head around everything he was being told. “Wh-what am I supposed to e-even do?” He questioned, voice cracking a little.

Loba took a sip from her glass, swirling the dark liquid around a little as she thought. “Watch the other workers, and imitate them. The more sensual you are, the more successful you will be.” The woman crossed one leg over the other, sitting back in her chair as if it was just a casual day and not the end of Elliott’s life. “Obedience is vital for your safety. Some of the… characters you’ll be servicing can be violent or have a short fuse. The faster you are to do as they say, the less likely you are to end up hurt.”

Elliott couldn’t believe his ears, the engineer biting his lip to try and keep from crying again. How was she so calm about this? Talking about how to best get raped?? 

“Make sure you get them to pay you, don’t forget that.” Loba wasn’t even looking at him anymore, the woman tracing a finger around the rim of her glass. “They pay you for pleasure, and you pay your pimp. If you show up empty handed, things get very unpleasant.”

Swallowing hard, Elliott opened and closed his mouth a few times before his voice decided to work again. “Wh-what will happen if I’m e-empty handed?” He questioned nervously.

“Let's not dwell on that, gorgeous. You’ll do fine!” Loba smiled widely at the brunette, setting her glass aside before sitting forwards. “The club will be a much more pleasant time, I can guarantee you that. I will be placing you in the  _ Paradise Lounge. _ It’s a private club.”

Elliott was silent, inwardly wondering if Loba expected him to be grateful. “What will I be doing at the club?”

“Oh it’ll be easy for you, beautiful,” the woman laughed, “dancing, serving drinks, extra services if a member pays a little more,” Loba rubbed two fingers together with a smile. “A pretty thing like you will make a lot of credits!”

“You mean you will make a lot of credits,” Elliott answered defeatedly. 

“Most of it goes to Crypto,” Loba answered, seemingly unbothered by Witt’s answer. “Because this is my area, I will get part of it. But I can guarantee that you might actually enjoy it.”

Elliott didn’t even know how to respond to that, the young man choosing to remain silent. What could he possibly say anyways? Loba had been fairly nice up until now, and he didn’t really want to do anything that might upset her. She was the only half decent person he’d come across so far, best to keep her as a friend.

“Hm, I think you’d look really nice in gold,” Loba was looking him up and down again, almost as if she were deciding how to best sell his body. “We’ll need to think up a nice stage name for you as well, but gold would definitely suit you.”

Staring down at the drink in his hands, Elliott just allowed Loba to talk, the woman seemingly content with having a one sided conversation while the engineer did his best to not break down and cry all over again.

“What are you going to do with me?” Elliott questioned, not caring that he had interrupted Loba. 

“I’ll teach you how to act, how to do some makeup maybe,” Loba inspected her nails as she spoke, “get you ready for the world.”

Elliott gave a half-hearted nod. Somebody would come looking for him, right? Surely someone would notice he was missing, maybe his mom called the enforcers after what happened? She wouldn’t forget something so important, would she?

Doubt and uncertainty gnawed at the corners of Elliott’s mind, the poor guy hating the fact that he couldn’t be… sure. His mom wasn’t well, what if she didn’t remember? Or worse, what if one of those guys fed her lies? Were they even smart enough to do that? They threatened her, Elliott remembered.

“Elliott? Are you listening?”

Jumping a little, Elliott looked up at Loba. “Huh?”

“This is important,” the silver haired woman said, voice grim. “If you were to attempt to run away, or anything of that sort, I can’t promise your mother’s safety.”

Elliott’s blood ran cold, the young man staring at Loba. “She’s sick!” The words were out before he could even process them, “she’s real sick! She c-can’t remember stuff! She needs me!”

“I’m sorry,” Loba sighed, though she didn’t sound all that sorry. “But her safety depends entirely on your cooperation. Do you understand?”

Clenching his jaw, Elliott felt anger overcome his previous sadness, fingers curling into fists as he gave a sharp nod. He didn’t dare speak, certain that his mouth would land him in a whole lot of trouble. His anger didn’t last long, however, as Loba continued chattering about other things as if it were a casual conversation. Elliott just sat there in silence, not really hearing what the woman was saying as he stared down into his lap and allowed his mind to run rampant. 

  
One thought ate away at the poor guy:  _ What’s going to happen to me? _


End file.
